


The First Night of Forever

by SaikaKuchiki



Category: Vampyr (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Jonathan had a plan, Jonathan is super patient, McCullum is an angry git, Turned!McCullum, Waking up a vampire, but nothing goes his way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-30 18:24:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15102407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaikaKuchiki/pseuds/SaikaKuchiki
Summary: When Jonathan turned McCullum, he had a plan. All his experience said that the turn would be slow, so he would go rescue Edgar and return with a source of blood to help McCullum with his shift, to give him what he himself had been denied. But nothing ever seems to go his way.





	The First Night of Forever

**Author's Note:**

> So the only experience Jonathan has with people turning at this point was his own turning and what happened to Mary. It is implied that both of these events took at least a day, if not a few. And Jonathan doesn't seem like the type of person who would abandon anyone to wake up a vampire, even an angry git like McCullum.  
> This is everything that happened on McCullum's first night as a vampire.

The return to life was sudden and painful. He jerked upright with a gasp, immediately choking and launching into a coughing fit. He felt wrong. The pain that was filling him was indistinct and filled his entire being, his veins burned, his throat raked, his very skin crackling with sensation. But beneath all of it was an all consuming wrongness. His mouth felt dry and yet too full, the world around him seemed to have lost its colour, and every tiny movement took monumental effort.

Suddenly there was a thunk of something opening and he looked up to see something bright red and pulsing coming towards him. He fought to get to his feet, some sound washed over him, vaguely he knew it was important but it was muffled and warped and nothing was more important than the red. When he was finally upright he tried to move towards the red, but his body faltered and he stumbled. The red had moved forwards, however, caught him as he fell and his face was so close now that he could see nothing else.

The next part was easy. The easiest thing since he’d awoken. He bit down hard into the red. Liquid filled his mouth and it only became easier. He gulped it down, drinking more and more but he was still so thirsty. There was a sharp pain in his arm, followed by another in his shoulder but he didn’t release his grip until it became limp and fell away on its own.

 **BETRAYER** echoed loudly in his mind. **The entire Guard is a sham, headed by a leech, laughing at humanity while luring away its only protectors to drain them dry.**

Geoffrey McCullum stared down at the man at his feet as the world came back into focus. He was a member of the Guard, he couldn’t put a name to the face – except for the one that was now floating around his mind dammit – so he must have been one of the new wave of recruits for the Great Hunt. It didn’t make his last thoughts any less true. He pulled out the stake embedded in his shoulder, flinching as the wound healed itself.

“Fucking bastard doctor,” he muttered, throwing the stake aside as he strode to the lift. He ran his hand over his shoulder, there wasn’t even a trace of a wound. He needed to change the way they trained recruits to ward off vampire bites, the stake had barely registered as he was draining the man. Geoffrey wavered slightly as memories of the dead recruit’s training shot through his mind – he hadn’t known that vampires stole their victim’s memories. He shook his head, trying to get his mind back in the present. The lift ground to a halt, the doors opened to the main hospital and Geoffrey’s new senses were suddenly on fire. Swansea’s blood was spread around the corridor, a trail to lead the good Dr Reid to meet his end. Geoffrey had just fed – as much as he loathed himself for having done it – so he knew he logically shouldn’t need to feed, but the blood was calling to him. There was a pain in his jaw and Geoffrey felt the fangs that had descended there with his tongue. Geoffrey diverted his eyes away from the blood, staring at the ceiling as he made his way to the end of the corridor. He made it to the stairs and everything got so much worse.

The smell of blood was everywhere. The hospital was full to capacity, patients in every bed, in every room, in the hallways, in tents outside with every manner of illness, every injury and it was making his new fangs itch. The world faded to grey again and he could see their blood, the red pulsing life that pumped through every single one. His breathing grew heavy, the void that was his hunger sat deep in his gullet and called to be sated. It took every shred of self control he had to bring colour back to the world, but he couldn’t bear to go down the stairs, he didn’t trust himself around so many easy targets. He headed away from the stairs, down the hallway towards the office of Dr Reid. He got through the door and slammed it behind him. The thick barrier of wood helped shut out the smell, and eventually McCullum’s breathing came back under his control. With a familiar twinge of pain he felt his fangs move, his teeth smooth once again under his tongue. He took a moment to look around the room. He knew that Reid hadn’t been in London for long, and the lack of personal effects in the room was further evidence to that. Mostly there was just scientific equipment with notes around each one. Geoffrey was about to investigate further when the door in the opposite wall opened and Dr Jonathan Reid stood framed against the sky.

“You fucking bastard leech!” Geoffrey roared. His crossbow was empty, so he launched himself at the Jonathan, hand already on his sword. Then there was a strange flash of black, and suddenly Geoffrey was much closer to Jonathan than he should have been and his head was pounding. He stumbled but Jonathan caught him, holding the vampire hunter steady as he examined him.

“Why are you awake?” Jonathan muttered, which didn’t help Geoffrey’s mood.

“So much for knowing what you’re doing, eh leech?” Geoffrey spat as his head finally stopped spinning enough that he got his feet under him again. He pushed away from Reid who was frowning at him.

“‘Leech’ does now apply to you as well, McCullum,” Jonathan said before he seemed to realise something. “Damn it McCullum who did you attack?” Jonathan took a step forward, looking like he was going to grab Geoffrey’s arms, so Geoffrey lifted his sword between them making Jonathan pause.

“No one,” he said, glaring at Jonathan. Jonathan stared back, eyebrow raised and waiting for the truthful answer. “No one that concerns you,” the hunter amended.

“Damn it McCullum!” Jonathan cursed again as he rushed out of his office and down into the main throng of the hospital. Geoffrey wondered how he could be around so much blood and sickness without even seeming strained. Then he decided that if Reid could do it, so could he. He opened the door to leave but Jonathan was already striding back towards him.

“One of your own Geoffrey? Why was he even here?” Jonathan continued to stride towards him, sweeping Geoffrey up in his return to his office.

“I am the head of the Guard of Priwen, I always have contingencies in place. I left an order that if I didn’t return to the theatre before Swansea died, was rescued or confessed that I would require back up here. That recruit was sent here to fulfil that order.” Jonathan looked at him as if he was speaking another language. “You and Swansea may call me a woodsman but I organise and run the entire Guard, all the patrols, training, recruitment, everything goes through me.” An expression crossed Jonathan’s face for a moment and Geoffrey took pride in the fact that he’d caught the man off-guard.

“So who was he?” Jonathan asked as he swept over to close the door that he’d first come through.

“No one who concerns you,” Geoffrey repeated, glaring at Jonathan’s back.

“So long as you are aware that the more you know about a victim, the more sustenance you will gain from their blood,” Jonathan said as he turned back to face Geoffrey. “I must apologise Geoffrey, I did not intend for you to reawaken on your own. All the experience I have with turning made me think it was a more long term event, and I know that the return to life is… unpleasant. I am sorry I couldn’t help you through that.” Geoffrey stared at Jonathan, his blank uncomprehension at that statement slowly morphing into an all-consuming rage.

“You’re sorry?” he growled, fangs extending but he couldn’t bring himself to care. “You were determined to kill me, curse me, punish me for doing what I felt was right!” He took a step towards Reid, who didn’t move, didn’t react in any way. “And you’re sorry you couldn’t watch your poison do its work? Fuck you, Jonathan Reid.” Geoffrey made a rush for the door, expecting the jump this time and was able to power through the dizziness it brought him. He wrenched the door and took one step onto the scaffolding outside before collapsing in blinding pain. He glanced sideways and saw that the sun was rising. Its light felt like it was burning down to the bone, it was all he could do to stay on his knees and not fall to the ground below him. Suddenly something tugged on the back of his coat, yanking him back inside. The door was slammed shut and Geoffrey was left with the smell of burning flesh as he lay on the floor and waited for his skin to recover.

“I closed that door for a reason,” Jonathan said wryly, shaking his arm in an attempt to relieve the burn as the skin regrew. Geoffrey gritted his teeth as he tried to move, not fully healed yet but not wanting to be lying on the floor, vulnerable while Reid had free reign.

“So what now? I’m trapped here for the next 11 hours?” Geoffrey growled, glaring daggers at Jonathan.

“Yes, and I would recommend getting some rest,” Jonathan said calmly.

“There is no way I’m ever sleeping within a mile of you,” Geoffrey snarled, able to stand up now and putting some distance between himself and Jonathan. Jonathan stared at him, eyes seemingly piercing through Geoffrey’s being.

“Very well, but I hope you have something to occupy yourself, because I would rather you don’t touch anything here,” Jonathan said calmly, once again turning his back to the vampire hunter. He shrugged off his coat, hanging it over the end of the bed before lying down and immediately stilling. The vampire doctor’s breathing stilled completely, his body looking more like a corpse than it normally did. Geoffrey’s hand went to his sword. It would be so easy. He was completely defenceless. Geoffrey brought his sword up, the point aimed directly at Jonathan’s heart, but something made him pause.

This leech had sworn on multiple occasions that they weren’t enemies, and until Geoffrey forced his hand Jonathan had never moved against him. He had multiple reports of Jonathan providing medicine in all the surrounding boroughs, to any ill citizens he met at the time of night he was around. And the only proof he had that linked Jonathan to the epidemic was Doris Fletcher being at Pembroke and Jonathan being the only vampire at Pembroke. And despite turning him into a leech, Jonathan had saved him from the sunlight and seemed to have wanted to help him through the rebirth.

Geoffrey put his sword away. He backed away from the sleeping vampire, retreating to the old surgery table the other side of the bookshelves from Jonathan’s bed. He sat down, staring at the vampire through the bookshelf. As Reid had guessed, Geoffrey didn’t have anything to occupy his mind, and time seemed to only be inching by. He made sure that all of his weapons were in working order, even moved his spare bolts from his inner pockets to be readily loaded if need be. Geoffrey lay back on the surgery table, his feet hanging off the end. He slowly relaxed, letting his breathing slow.

 _Don’t think that this changes anything leech. I don’t trust you, I never will, and I will never forgive you for this. You won’t sway me to your ideals._ Was the last thought that crossed Geoffrey’s mind before he dropped off to sleep.


End file.
